


Twitcams and tinkle times

by Star_less



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Desperation Play, Do I write too many omorashi fanfics???!!!, Dom/sub Undertones, Harry is always the victim, Louis always enjoys this desperation stuff, M/M, Omorashi, Pee, Shitty plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis are doing a twitcam. Louis makes Harry desperate. And loves every fucking bladder bursting second of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twitcams and tinkle times

"Larry Stylinson!" Josh Devine smiled cheerfully calling for Harry and Louis, running into the two boys' room.   
The boy stopped dead in his tracks halfway though, and took in the scene. Louis.. was feeding Harry?  
Well; letting him drink- no, wait-- _forcing_ him to drink, it seemed. Harry's green eyes were fear filled; yet Harry seemed to like it.   
Thinking of it, Louis had been filling Harry up with drink an awful lot today.. Josh couldn't for the life of him, figure out why.  
Harry and Louis stopped; Louis with a teasing remark tickling his tongue, Harry with the cool droplets of H20 dribbling down his chin. They gazed at Josh.  
"Umm, it's about time you started a twitcam." Josh backed out with a smile.  
They ignored Josh.  
Harry sucked on the bottle rim obediently as Louis tipped it up, Styles' lips purple, full of moisture, gulp after gulp of water swimming through his system. Though scared, Harry didn't complain; he loved the warm feeling the water gave his bladder. Louis loved the desperation that entailed. 

"I think Josh is right." Louis smiled. "We should do a twitcam later on."   
He gently lifted the bottle from Harry's mouth and studied it. "And, empty. Well done."   
Almost immediately Louis was reaching for more. "Dance rehearsals first." He was teasing. "Need to stay hydrated."  
Harry nodded. He whined when he saw more liquid. His eyes flickered; for one weak second, to the loo.  
"Not now." Louis said, in a prompting icy voice. He brushed liquid from Harry's mouth, Harry eagerly gulped, mouth suddenly dry. Finding himself missing the liquid.   
"Later." He paused.   
Harry hated *the* pauses. They were bad.   
"If you do well." Louis finished, nodding.   
Harry sagged. He smiled.

Of course; Harry couldn't go to the toilet. Not at the rehearsals. That's called 'breaking rules'  
And Louis _abhors_ broken rules.   
So; for the duration of the rehearsal, as Harry felt the stinging of a filling bladder, as Harry began to nervously fidget.. Louis smiled. The plan, was slowly working.   
The bladder was slowly filling. Of course, as noted, it was filling _slowly_ which meant it was fine for more liquid by all means.   
Louis had Harry so obedient, that the curly boy's mouth dropped open at the sight of an icy Louis glare and some sweet liquid.  
And luckily, by the end of that two hour rehearsal, Harry was already looking full of discomfort - or just plain full - as his feet trembled, concentration slipped; he was falling over his own two feet.

So, with all that liquid inside of him, it's no surprise that Harry's been getting desperate all day. Louis Tomlinson can tell, he can really tell. Harry hasn't outright said anything at all, but Lou can still tell, and he'll show how.  
Right now, he and Harry are sitting on Lou's bed, sheets crumpled. Once again Lou has a no sex rule in place no sex if Harry's not pissed himself like he should, and Harry _fucking HATES_ it.   
Lou doesn't. Lou can wank. Harry can too; but Harry hates it sometimes. It's only because he has to work himself up for Louis, for that rule to be lifted; he has to really work, until Louis is satisfied and Harry's legs are trembling, tears leaking and he's starting to beg, as it hurts so badly and Harry's not sure whether he wants to piss and relieve the pain or piss and finally let that urine out.   
Oh, how Louis loves his Harry when he begs like that, though. The best part is what he's begging for - Harry's begging to have his relief in his jeans, soak them with his urine.   
Louis loves that.   
He can fuck Harry to oblivion as soon as he hears Harry start to beg, because he knows what's coming next.   
Harry loves that.

So, anyway. Right now, Louis and Harry are on Lou's bed, giving the fans a well-deserved Twitcam.   
Louis is pretending to be very interested as he sets the Twitcam up, but oh god he isn't. All he can think about is tonight. Harry is desperate. Oh he knows Harry is desperate, all that liquid wasn't given to him for nothing, and Louis didn't make sure Harry's drunken every last job for no reason either. Harry is being so good, so so good. The better he does, the harder he'll be fucked.   
And Harry's showing the most delicious subtle signs of desperation, little wiggles on the bed, and shifts, as if he can't get comfortable. Unsure little moves of his hands toward his crotch. Louis knows the truth. "You okay?" He asks, looking sideways, tongue gliding over his teeth.   
Harry winces. Why that question? He hates that question with a passion.  
Louis hides a smile, licking his teeth with his tongue. Harry's expression is giving him away. But instead he speaks. "Answer me, Harry." He squeezes Harry's fingers.  
"Fine, Louis." Harry smiles a tiny bit and nods. Make sure Lou doesn't think anything's wrong.   
"If you're sure." Louis mutters. 

The Twitcam is well underway. Harry _needs_ to piss.   
Louis is _getting pissed_. Should he be? Harry is squirming and well on the way to pee pants central.  
Lou is chatting to the fans and doing what he needs to, but Harry isn't moving much.   
Well, fuck, he's moving.   
In fact, he hasn't stopped moving. All he's doing is squirming, shifting. Thrusting and pressing his crotch into the bed- oh like that's going to stop anything! But he's not joining in with the Twitcam like he should be.  
The messages are coming through, more and more.   _Fast, fast, ping ping.  
Is Harry ok?  
What's wrong with Hazza, Lou?  
Harry can you please stay still. I can barely see you._  
Louis let the messages scroll across the screen.  
Harry got more frustrated and flustered seeing the messages coming through. He wiggled more vigorously on the bed as his bladder pressure grew and grew.   
Louis is watching on. He's chewing his lip.  
But fuck it. Harry isn't desperate enough yet. He's not bursting or begging. Harry's already in a bit of trouble anyway. He lied to Louis.  
And he knows Louis absolutely despises him lying, especially about his needs.  
Meanwhile Harry feels like he's busting already. He crosses his legs and sits up, but then one wayward look from Louis comes his way and his mouth wavers and he laughs. He laughs so hard, loudly, happily, and his bladder shakes and spasms hard. And then spurts and panic panic _fucking panic_ because he's about to piss all over Lou's bed.

"A- aahahh, Louis can I get up?" Harry says. _Just in time..  
Boom, there it is._ Louis thinks to himself. _God, Harry gets desperate fast, doesn't he?!_ Louis loves Harry's small bladder, so, so much. It's so good for him sometimes, it holds as little as possible - how great!  
"L-ooouuuuuiiisss!" Harry says again. Pathetically tapping Lou's shoulder.  
"What?" Louis snaps.   
Harry flinches. Visibly. A small spurt trickles from him. He shivers.. it's loud though.  
Louis hears. Oh, Louis hears. How can he not, it's Harry and he's pissing. "What's wrong Har- _wee_?" He smirks.   
Harry scowls at the name. "Can I get up?"  
'Can I get up' is code for 'I need a wee and it's getting bad.' That's easy. Personal experience. Especially with Harry.  
"No you can't." Louis says easily.   
"B- but why.."  
Louis pulls Harry close. By the scruff of his t-shirt. The fans are watching. Harry's heart pumps. His cock throbs with need, pressure backed behind it's tip.   
"Th-- they're watching.." Harry whines and squirms, tentatively touching his penis, poking the pressure. He wiggles under Lou's grip, feet curling desperately.   
"I know they are." Louis hisses, and his voice is cool and dangerous, a commanding tone. "But you don't need to urinate, do you Harry?" He hisses.   
Harry whimpers, squirming. He hates that question too. He's getting fucking desperate and Louis knows that now, Louis knows that the squirming means he _needs_ to piss, needs to let it out.   
Harry whimpers again, rough sounding; and worries his lip between his teeth, nicking it. He knows he can't let out a bit-- not-- not on purpose, can he?!   
But now his lip is bleeding. Louis tightens his grip on the scruff of Harry's tee, pulling him close.   
The movement, it jostles Harry hard and he starts to leak a bit against the bed. A strangled moan hit his lips.  
Louis shivers a bit at the moan. Not able to help it. He simpers to Harry saying soft things, but can only smile as Harry leans forward, hands deep on his crotch helplessly feeling for his cock.  
Louis smiles. "Alright just a second guys." He shouts to his fans, Harry's fans.   
_Fuck._  
Harry forgot about their fans.  
The fans were there seeing everything!  
"They can't see." Louis promises. "Or hear, for a sec. But they know I'm just tending to you." He tuts. "Now you've nicked your lip."  
Harry nods. It's the desperation.   
Louis nudges at Harry's full, purple lips. He brushes the blood away with his finger and then parts Hazza's lips slightly.   
There's a grin on his face.   
Harry panics a bit, squirming a little more, desperately.   
Louis nudges a bottle to Harry's lips and the curly one whimpers a bit, staring at the bottle. "O- oh, Lou I c-can't.."  
"Yes you can and you will." Louis hisses. Harry's whimpering knowing what is coming and Lou just licks his lips, nudging the bottle neck to Harry's lips.  
Harry gags. Hating the ridged plastic lid against his swollen lip.   
Louis smiles, quickly tipping the liquid. Harry moans throughout, the cool tangy liquid filling his cheeks.    
He can't swallow.   
It dribbles from his mouth. Sours.  
Louis gives him a look.  
Harry swallows. Traitor.   
"Good. Now let's get back to this twitcam. Just for a little bit longer?" Lou reasons.   
So on the Twitcam goes and Louis knows Harry is barely keeping his liquid in as he is not sitting still, he is rocking the bed and has his hands thrust tightly onto his crotch, one hand squeezing his penis tightly.   
The whimpers that come out; Louis must admit, they're deliciously sexy. So very deliciously so.  
The more Harry rocks, he can feel himself dribbling, down his shaft and he squeaks softly. Rearranges himself on the duvet, a hot hissing spurt splashing against his crotch. He slams a hand tighter and releases more, whining tearfully.  
"Hold it Harry." Louis says, flashing his fans a winning smile. His hand falls down to the duvet. He feels a bit of wetness, but only smiles. Harry's taking deep breaths and his breath hitches as Louis grabs ahold of his penis. Holds the tip shut.  
Urine burns behind Harry's tip. He moans as a trickle comes through anyway.   
"Hold in your river baby, you can do it." Louis says gently, whispering coolly into Harry's ear. No one can hear.   
"C- can't." Harry whines. "P- please. C- can I l- let a little bit out?" He pleads, his eyes filling with tears.   
"You want to?" Louis asks. he strokes Harry's cheek.  
Harry nods. Frantically.   
Louis places a hand over Harry's bladder. Feels the swell a bit. Bites his lip. "Go."  
That's all Harry wants, needs to hear. He lets a moan fall from his mouth as his sphincter muscles relax and he starts to go, trickling pee from him, as if unsure. He's taking deep breaths. Whining at the small amount.  
"That's it, well done." Louis says. "Little little trickles. Because you can hold the rest."   
Harry whines a bit. He clenches his sphincters again and resumes squirming, desperation increasing.  
He's let a little out. His bladder thinks it's allowed to release the rest.  
Now it's worse than before. "Louis!" He screeches, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. His free hand reaches to clasp Lou's shoulder. With the other, he's holding his penis but can feel himself release anyway, his bladder muscles getting tired of holding. Pee trickles, slow, dripping onto the bed. His stain grows.  
"L- Louis!"  
Harry lurches forward, kneeling, feet squirming, hand holding his throbbing cock. Head ducked down, curls plastered to his sweaty forehead.

Louis smiles. "Oh babe."   
He works his fingers across the hot swell of Harry's bladder once again. "Come on now, hold it. If you don't, you won't get sex."   
"Can't, can't, can't." Harry chants, deep breaths, dribbling all over himself. He stares down at Lou's white duvet and sees a little yellow patch forming. And it's his.  
"Can too." Lou says. "Hold it until you're pissing like a racehorse." He challenges with a wide smirk. He turns the Twitcam off with a 'bye'.  
"Oooh, it's off, it's off, it's gone." Harry moans. He wiggles, hand still squeezing his hot throbbing cock, cheeks stained red.  
"What is?" Louis asks.  
"The Twitcam, can I pee, can I, can I, can I?" Harry moans and begs, blinking adorably, lip wobbling between his teeth, feet trembling, stain almost growing. "Pl-please Louis, p-- plea-- please.. I- I'm alr-- already going!" He sighs, moving shaking white knuckles to show his stain.   
"No, no, no. Hold it. Do I have to do what Niall does to Zayn?" Louis warns.  
Harry bites his lip, not listening, head bent, squirming. Hissing is evident, slow, hot trickling against his thighs.  
"I think I do." Louis answers for him. He reaches over, slips his hand down Harry's pants, caresses Harry's soaking underwear. He holds the tip of the boy's penis shut.   
Only a few minutes, though, that's all it takes.  
One, nothing.  
Two, Harry starts to squirm uncomfortably.  
Three and Louis can feel trickles hitting his fingers. He pulls away. Harry moans. It's not coming. It's not coming out. Where is it?  
"Come here." Louis touches a crossed leg.  
"No, Lo-- Louis." Harry hisses through clenched teeth. "It's the o- only t-thing hel-- agh!" Spurts. More.   
"O-nly thing hel-- helping me hold."  
"I know."  
And with that, Louis tugs at crossed legs. And suddenly Harry's sitting at the end of Lou's bed, damp, swinging his feet hard against the side.   
And he whines and his hands are there, he can't wet the bed. Not Lou's bed.  
"Harry, Harry. Listen to me." Louis says. "You can, okay?" He whispers. "You can."  
Louis intertwines Harry's fingers with his, bats them away.   
And then the flood starts, straight away. Louis is amazed, Harry is relieved. He squirms, his face clouding as pee sprays from him, all that pressure backed away is now going going going. The curly boy is soaking his thighs with hot burning liquid and it's travelling down his legs, his jeans sodden and soaking with pee.   
Harry moans; lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, falling backwards onto the bed.   
Piss soaks him all over, dripping from the ends of his jeans, spreading to the back and over his bottom, soaking into the bed beneath him with an amazing speed and a telltale soft hissing. His bladder is still throbbing, volumes of liquid are coming from him and Louis can barely contain his amazement or excitement.  
His jeans cling to him, the bed has a yellow patch around him.   
Harry is relieved.   
Louis is turned on to the high heavens of fuckery.   
"Oh, Louis." Harry whimpers, embarrassed. "I- I'm s-so sorry." He babbles incessantly, as his jeans stick to him and he starts to smell of pee a little.   
Sorry, sorry, sorry, is all Harry can say as tears pool; half from relief, half from embarrassment.  
"Harry."  
Nothing.  
"Harry, listen."  
Still nothing, more babbles.  
"Harry fucking listen to me." Louis says, leaning close, pressing a passionate kiss to Harry's lips and rubbing his erection against Harry's thigh. Stroking his cheeks with an added, "Dirty, so dirty, pissing helplessly on my bed like that." as he straddles Harry, feeling the soaked clothes and bed underneath him.  
Now Harry's listening.  
So is Harry's cock.  
Harry bites his lip, sexily.   
"But you did so well with holding it, so well holding back that river, baby." Louis mumbles into Harry's neck, nipping him. With his free hand he fumbles with Harry's soaked jeans, feeling all the wetness he can. He unzips the jeans, feels the little smooth bit where Harry's bladder was once swelled, and then frees Harry's throbbing, still slightly damp erection. "You know what you get now, baby?" Louis whispered, giving Harry a lovebite.   
Harry moans in reply earnestly waiting for the reply from Louis. Even though he knows.  
"Sex." Lou says.   
And then he goes down.  
And it's great.

**Author's Note:**

> I write too many omorashi fics don't I.


End file.
